


Pity

by ashleyerwinner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Cas, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Human!Castiel - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, Worried!Dean, Yelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:24:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleyerwinner/pseuds/ashleyerwinner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean knows Cas is hiding his feelings, and tries his best to overcome his "No Chick Flick Moments" rule to help the ex-angel out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pity

**Author's Note:**

> Is anyone else out there wondering why Cas is totally fine with everything that happened?

As much as Cas was the same, he was equally as different.

Long gone had the angel of the Lord Dean once knew, and now replaced with a tame human being, too at peace for Dean’s liking.

And as for the way he was acting, a smile for every morning he woke up, never an unkind word, nor complaint, Dean was sure that he was hiding his true feelings, much like he and Sam did when they were going through some rough shit.

Dean had had about enough, but it crossed the lines when he had seen Cas bang his toes on the side of the leg of the bunker’s table, cry out in pain, clench his fists, and then slowly walk away without even a curse.

No one was that at peace with everything, especially not an ex-angel with the weight of his fallen brothers on his conscience.

So, Dean had taken it upon himself, much to his dismay, to talk to Cas. About feelings.

“How ya feelin’, Cas?” He asked, watching the brunet flip through a dusty old book. Cas didn’t even bother to look up at him.

“I’m perfectly content, thank you for asking.” The ex-angel replied, low voice echoing softly through the room.

Bullshit.

“Yeah, man, it seems like you’re in a good place, you know, with, uh, everything that’s happened.”

Now Cas looked up at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asked, head tilting.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just,“ Dean paused for a second, brain addled from the pain this was gonna take to get Cas to admit he was feeling shitty. “You’re human now, you know? It’s a big difference.” Dean said, lamely, and Cas gave him a look.

“I thought you didn’t do chick flick moments, Dean.” He said dryly, and the younger man scoffed at him.

“Is everyone reading the Supernatural books?” He joked, and Cas replied as serious as always.

“I was an angel, Dean. I didn’t read the books. I heard the Winchester gospel.” Right.

“Humor me, Cas.” He said, and relaxed against the wall of the bunker, eyes focused on his friend.

“What do you want me to say?” He asked quietly, flipping through the book again. Dean rolled his head back onto the wall and sighed.

“I don’t _want_ you to say anything you don’t mean. I’m just saying, you know, it’s not… healthy to keep emotions locked up.” Cas looked up at him, Sam’s trademarked bitchface on his features.

“You have room to talk, Mr. ‘We-Don’t-Talk-About-It’.” Dean smiled despite himself, and Cas’ lips turned upwards, a small smile wiping away his angry features.

“Dude, I’m trying. Doesn’t that count, at all? For anything?” Cas didn’t reply, jotting down something on a notepad beside him instead, blatantly ignoring Dean now.

Well.

“I’m not leaving until you talk to me, man.” He said, and stood watching the man, who didn’t even bother to glance up at Dean to see if he was being serious.

“Whenever you’re ready, Cas.”

No response.

Dean stood there for a couple minutes, arms folded across his chest, waiting for Cas to say something, _anything_ , about literally anything he wanted.

“Hey, Cas-“

“Dean, shut up.” Cas said, pen clenched in his fist, white knuckles protruding against the the tan of his skin. Dean shook his head.

“Talk to me.”

Cas slammed his fists on the table.

Finally.

“You want me to _talk_ , Dean?”

“Well, yes, that’s what I’ve been asking for the last hour.” Dean replied, a smirk playing on his lips. Cas stood up, fists clenched on the table.

“You want me to be angry. To yell. To cry. To-“

“To be _human_ , Cas. You can’t just-“

“Fuck you.”

Well, fucking finally.

“Alright, Cas, lay it on me.” He said, and anger filled the ex-angel’s eyes, and he stormed around the table, advancing on the blond.

“What is it that you want from me, exactly?” He asked, pushing Dean’s shoulders. Dean began to protest, and then stopped, seeing the hurt flash through Cas’ eyes. “Do you want me to scream in agony because I’m not an _angel_ anymore?

“Or maybe because I’m the reason all of my brothers and sisters are locked out of heaven. Or maybe because those brothers and siblings are hunting me down _to kill me_. Is that what you want, Dean?” Cas pushed him against the wall, hands fisted in Dean’s shirt.

“Maybe you want me to be pissed off about Metatron, and Naomi, how they tricked me, or maybe how I was _stupid_ enough to let them. Are you hearing what you want to hear yet, Dean?” Dean clenched his jaw and watched as the ex-angel looked down, voice breaking as he continued.

“I am mad, Dean.” He said, and let go of Dean’s shirt, looking him straight in the eyes. “But I’m not mad at Metatron, or Naomi, and sometimes, I can even stomach myself.” Dean cringed. “I am mad at _you_.”

Dean nodded, prepared to take whatever Cas had to throw at him.

“And you’ll probably think it’s because you kicked me out of the bunker, when I had nowhere else to go, or maybe you’ll think it’s because of whatever reason you’re still hiding something from me.”

Cas looked down again, and looked up at Dean before pushing him into the wall again.

“I’m not even mad at that. You have your reasons. I get that.” Dean let out a breath, not sure when he started holding it in. “I am _furious_ -“ he paused to push Dean against the wall again. “That my friend – my _best_ friend – _only_ friend in the whole world, the one person who made me rebel against God and my brothers and sisters, who got me into this mess, looks at _me_ with pity.” He spit out. His jaw clenched, and tears sprung to his eyes, his face wrenching into utter despair. He collapsed against Dean’s chest, sobs choked out, tears staining Dean’s shirt.

“I don’t pity you, Cas. ‘m just worried.” He whispered into Cas’ hair, and the smaller man slumped onto the ground, quickly followed by Dean, who wrapped his arms around the man, soothing circles on his back with his calloused thumbs.

Cas’ sobs echoed through the room, and so did Dean’s “’s’okay, Cas. ‘s’okay.” 


End file.
